How Easy Is Too Easy
by 2Recalcitrant4U
Summary: Based off a prompt on kink-meme: John and Sherlock get it on for the first time, but things don't quite go as planned.


John crawled up the bed prowling towards Sherlock, who shrank back with a sudden indecipherable look

on his face. John stopped abruptly frowning. It had taken them years to build up to the point where they had

finally taken each other to bed, but now Sherlock was looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. 'Are you…sure

that you're okay with this?' he asked from his position, holding himself about halfway up Sherlock's long pale

body. He was desperately hoping that he would say yes, because John had been painfully hard awhile now, and

he wanted to get things headed towards orgasm rather sooner than later. Sherlock blinked for a beat longer

than normal and then nodded. John, unconvinced, hesitated and then tipped himself to the side landing next to

him on the sheets. 'Okay, something's up. I thought you wanted…' Sherlock cut him off with a violent shake of

the head and an abbreviated eye roll. 'Obviously I want it John, I came quite willingly to bed, and-' he gestured

down at his pants-covered erection 'I'm ready to go'. John still looked at him uncertainly so Sherlock sighed and

continued 'I want this John. I wouldn't have started something without intending to finish it. But you should

know that…I haven't exactly done this before.' He looked down at his hands, suddenly shy.

John relaxed, of course Sherlock was nervous, he remembered his first time too-a quick romp in

someone elses bed at his first ever college party. He had been shaking, but the girl he was with took charge

and led him through it. He could do the same for Sherlock now. 'Let's just take things slow, okay?' Sherlock

nodded and seemed to calm as John leaned back over him and started slowly kissing up along his jaw line to

capture those warm parted lips with his own. He felt Sherlock respond instantly, threading his long fingers into

John's short blonde hair and softly moaning into his mouth.

_Okay, so far so good,_ John thought, leaning on one elbow and using his free hand to slowly stroke up

and down Sherlock's arms and shoulders as they kissed. This felt more natural to him than he could have

hoped for, and Sherlock was so sensitive that John was beginning to enjoy seeking out what touches would

make him make those deep sounds that went straight to his cock. He began to make his way down Sherlock's

body, pausing at one dusky pink nipple, earning another moan from his partner, before drifting his hand to grip

at his too-bony hip. Sherlock pulled away, gasping as John gently began feeling under his pants to lightly brush

the edges of the curly dark hair near his groin. John grinned and shifted back on his heels to pull down the

tented fabric, careful of the leaking cock that was revealed. John glanced back up at Sherlock quickly to check if

everything was all right, and at Sherlock's nod reached out to grasp the shaft with one hand. It felt foreign to

him, holding the hard length of another man, but not unpleasant,especially not when it was attached to the

strange and wonderful man he was beginning to suspect meant far more to him

than a best mate.

Sherlock's cock was pretty much exactly what John had pictured, long and lean like the man himself, and

curving ever-so-slightly to the left. John gave it an experimental stroke and nearly let go in surprise at the

nearly inhuman noise that came from Sherlock. Shifting his gaze back up, John found that Sherlock's eyes were

clenched tightly shut and his hands, which had been resting at his sides loosely, were clutching at the sheets

with white knuckles. John turned his focus back to the task at hand, so to speak, and gave it another pull,

slowly slicking skin-on-skin from base to tip using the pre-come as natural lubricant. He had never done this

before, but he knew what felt good to him, and attempted to focus on the little knot just under the head.

Sherlock was twisting around now, groaning like John was exactly the type of sex god that the nickname 'Three

Continents Watson' implied. Feeling a bit more confident, John dropped to his elbow and spontaneously leaned

forward to lick a stripe up the underside of Sherlock's cock, right along the thick vein that ran under the velvety

skin. To his shock, Sherlock immediately shuddered violently and came in thick white stripes all over his

stomach. In the silence that followed John stared blankly at the evidence that wasn't adding up in his lust-filled

brain. He blinked up at Sherlock to find that he was blushing furiously and looking at anything but John.'Ummm'

John was just able to begin before Sherlock wrenched himself out of the bed and disappeared into the

bathroom before John could process what had happened.

Well. Helping Sherlock achieve orgasm had been easier than he had thought, he had been worried about

being rubbish when faced with another cock, but now he wondered if perhaps there was a thing as too easy.

His own erection fading, John sat up and considered. Sherlock was obviously mortified that he had come too

soon, and John as a man, could relate whole-heartedly to the situation. He wasn't sure sharing similar tales

about John as a teenager would exactly help the thirty-something man who was currently hiding out in their

loo, but he couldn't ignore that what Sherlock needed was reassurance. John had learned long ago that while

Sherlock's ego was large, it could be easily hurt, he would have to be careful not to scare him off completely.

John got up and went to the bathroom door. There was no sound from the other side, and he risked the knob.

He knew it wouldn't be locked; Sherlock had broken it on purpose months ago so that he could bother John

with questions while he was showering or shaving. John had never used it to barge in on Sherlock's privacy

before, but now his gut told him that if left to his own devices, Sherlock could take refuge in the bathroom for

days at a time, knowing his inhuman ability to go without food and his underdeveloped ability to handle

emotions. John took a deep breath, tried to gather his thoughts, and opened the door.

On the other side, Sherlock was standing with his back to John, hands. clenching the white porcelain of the

sink, shoulders hunched against the world. Shifting from foot to food awkwardly, John tried to think of

something fitting to say. When nothing came, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sherlock from

behind, resting his head on Sherlock's back, hands tentatively stroking along his chest. Neither spoke, but John

could hear Sherlock's heartbeat gradually slowing and feel his muscles relaxing into the embrace. After what

seemed like ages, Sherlock turned around and looked at John quickly before averting his eyes to speak to the

tiled floor. 'I can understand if you don't want to continue…whatever this is' He said, but John quickly shook his

head, 'That isn't what I want at all you berk. What I want is for you to come back to bed for round two.'

Sherlock's eyes darted back to his and stared at him for a moment before his mouth twitched in what might

have been a smile. 'You're incredibly gorgeous when you come, did you know that?' John asked conversationally

as he led him back to the darkened bedroom. 'Now this time, I've got some ideas that I want to try…'


End file.
